Michael's Command
by RemedyChill
Summary: Alternatively entitled 'Captain Barkeep' - When Romulans steal the Osiris - an experemental prototype with no crew on board. Someone has to bring it back, now don't they? Fairhaven enthusiasts welcome.
1. Default Chapter

Michael's Command

A Star Trek Voyager Spin Off

By Remedy=Chill

---

The ensign walked briskly down the carpeted hall. Secretly the ensign was thrilled with this particular piece of menial duty. She carried a data pad for Admiral Janeway.

Janeway was something of a living legend at the Academy these days. 

The door signaled automatically when the ensign stopped outside. It was one of those small, yet impressive traits of an Admirals quarters.

"Come." Came the brisk reply and the door whooshed open.

"Pad for you Admiral." The ensign presented the pad nervously.

Katherine Janeway smiled inwardly. Lately it seemed that every ensign in the fleet held his or her breath in Janeway's presence. As a result Janeway made a small game of counting the seconds until she saw them breathe. Then of course she dismissed them quickly before they passed out.

"Dismissed." She nodded curtly as though she were worried. And the ensign ran off to tell all her friends where she'd been.

Once alone Janeway keyed the pad. The image of Captain Thorn appeared. "Admiral, this pad is the one found on the Osiris when it was discovered. We believe that the key to the ship's recovery lay in the encrypted data blocks. However, those blocks were encrypted as personal mail and addressed to you Admiral. I look forward to hearing from you in the hopes that you can shed some light on the mystery for us. Thorn out."

The pad was addressed to Katie O'Claire, care of Katherine Janeway of the starship Voyager.

Janeway keyed the pad and spoke out loud. "Janeway, Admiral. Decrypt."

The pad whirred softly and an indicator light signaled its completion. 

"Proceed." She whispered, suddenly uncomfortable in the pads potential.

And the image flickered then flared to life. It was Michael Sullivan, the holographic barkeep from the Ox and Lamb pub in Fairhaven, and he was sitting alone on the bridge of the Osiris.

He wore a captain's uniform and his collar pips confirmed it.

"Ah, Katie. So much has happened that I have to tell ya." He smiled. And she melted just a little bit.

"I found yer ship for ya." He nodded and gestured awkwardly to the bridge. "Some right punks had it. Called themselves Romulans Katie, and I swear to you, their ears were pointed like the devils himself!" He shook his head as though to clear it.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself Katie. I should start at the beginning." And Michael Sullivan smiled again. Janeway settled back comfortably, enjoying this letter as a very guilty pleasure.

Michael Sullivan looked down at his bar. It was perfectly shined and buffed. It should be. He spent the last hour at it. Not that polishing the bar had really been what he was doing. He had really been staring out the window at the wall across the street. The bar just gave him an excuse to stand within line of sight.

Soon enough everyone in town would be asleep and he would creep back out, cross the street and speak the word again, as he had done so many nights since he first discovered the word.

He had heard a stranger speak it once and somehow he remembered it when he saw the changes.

Fairhaven had gotten odd in the last month. You could remember people who simply weren't to be found. Whole farms and landmarks seemed to be missing. It was as thought someone had condensed the town. 

Many whispered that magic was afoot. The eyes of the villagers looked for Tom Paris and Harry Kim, because they knew that they would fight such sorcery or at the least understand it and explain. 

But Michael Sullivan looked for Katie. 

All to no avail. They were no where to be found.

Michael crept out of the pub and crossed the street. "Computer." He whispered. "Arch please."

The mechanical arch appeared.

"Continue where we left off last night."

The computer whirred for a moment. "The Fairhaven program was produced by Harry Kim and Tom Paris of the Starship Voyager. This abridged demonstration version of the program was distributed throughout the Federation fleet upon their historic return from the Delta Quadrant."

"So Katie made it home." Michael smiled. "Continue. Please." He leaned comfortably against the Arch, his little piece of Katie's world.

"Copy's of the complete Fairhaven programming are now available." It finished.

"So they copied us?" He asked "The whole town? So others could see it?" The idea amused him with its absurdity. "Yours is a strange world Katie O'Claire." He smiled at the thought of her.

"Affirmative." The computer supplied.

"And this holo-deck" He asked, obviously thinking of a deck of cards. 

"This Holodeck is currently projecting the abridged Fairhaven program."

He looked down the road and at the quiet buildings and felt the gentle breeze. "You mean all this?" He could scarcely believe it.

"Even us, I mean me? I'm a copy of Michael Sullivan?" He listened intently as he watched a spider slip down its web and begin to crawl along the Arch.

"Michael Sullivan, Owner and Proprietor of the Ox and Lamb, is an integral part of the Fairhaven experience."

"Why thank you." He smiled. Pleased with himself.

"And this Holodeck? Does it exit . . ." He turned in utter astonishment as the exit doors parted "On to a ship?" He finished, swallowing, and creeping forward towards it. "Computer. What ship is this?"

"You are onboard the Osiris. Designation number. . ." But he wasn't listening any more. He was staring down the hall.

"Well, tell me now." He considered for a moment "Who commands this vessel?"

"The Osiris is a prototype vessel who has yet to be assigned a crew."

"I see." He licked his lips. "Do you think I could just step out for a little look around?"

"Holodeck recreations can not exist beyond the range of the holoprojectors on the holodeck." 

"I see." He said quickly. "And these holoprojectors" He considered "Can they be moved?"

"Unknown." 

"Well can I see one?" He wondered.

And the world before him shimmered. He jumped as the device emerged. It looked like a hip-high metal tree-stump with a metal and glass roof that glowed from within.

"And this thing. . . It pro-jects. . . People like me?"

"Affirmative."

And a thought occurred. "Is this one real, or is it a pro-jection."

"Projection." The computer chirped.

"So does it work?"

"It is capable of projecting images line of sight in the holodeck."

"What about in to the hall, or the ship?" he asked.

"This unit is capable of extending the hologramatic integrity field out of the holodeck doors in to 30 percent of the visible hallway."

He considered this for a moment.

"Tell me, can we change the design a bit to increase that percentage?"

"Specify."

"Could we say. . ." He smiled "Project another such projector in that 30 percent? One that projects further?"

"Specify distance."

Michael considered. "100 percent?" He ventured.

"Total coverage projections are achieved by positioning overlapping projectors at stable intervals."

"So could you project a series of projectors that cover the whole of the ship?"

The projector vanished before his eyes and shimmered. Before him appeared a large lantern that was shining brightly on to the far side of the hall. 

From the top and bottom of the wall, Borg-like tentacles sprung out of the wall and ran off in each direction in to the distance. He looked down to see the same tentacles extending out of the holodeck and around the corners of the door.

The tentacles whirred and flashed as they established themselves throughout the ship.

Then they flared brightly and settled in to a stable glow.

"If you wish to continue the current suggested modifications to the Fairhaven program it is advised that you discontinue the demonstration."

"Aye." He told it. "Go ahead."

The town vanished to reveal a small, cramped, barely illuminated room lined in a grid.  


Michael smiled in awe. "Well I'll be." He said out loud.

"Computer" He wondered "Is it safe for me to go out there now?"

"Affirmative."

Michael stepped out and stood up to his full height.

"Hello O'Cyrus." He said quietly. 


	2. Michael's Command Ch2 ST VOY

"This is Argden Delile." The man winced. How many times would he need to use this human name? "Please respond."

For a moment there was only static. Then:

". . . Viable. Repeat, Hold position. Unavoidable delays in reaching rondezvue point. We will arrive in two days. Mission still viable. Repeat. Hold position."

And he leaned back in the Captains chair. "Acknowledged."

He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. _This **mission** is going to **kill** me. This ship is **cursed**._

He shook slightly. _Food might clear my head_. He reasoned.

He stood up and strolled in to the turbolift. "Deck four." He commanded. And the tube whirled to life as it began to move.

It stopped on Deck four and the doors hissed open quietly. 

And that's where it all went wrong.

He very plainly saw a man, a human man, in old, odd clothing. He passed from left to right as he strolled the halls of the ship, hands clasped behind him, as though he owned it, carefree and whistling.

The door swooshed closed. "Computer." The thief called "Scan ship for life forms."

"Scanning." Came the reply. "One life form on board. Starfleet Captain, Argden Delile, Deck four, section C, turbolift."

And he felt his heart race. "Scan for energy anomalies. Same section." He told it, his knuckles turning white, as he gripped the turbolift handrail.

"All systems are working within paramaters." The computer replied. "No anomalies present."

"Sub Spa. . ." He swallowed. "Scan for sub-space anomalies." 

"Subspace scans were completed during the energy anomaly scan. No anomalies present."

He closed his eyes. "Bridge." He said quickly. And the turbolift whirred softly again, lifting him away to the bridge. "Please," he prayed, "will you _damn_ Romulans just arrive already?"

He swallowed, and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. He was a wreck. 

The actual stealing of the ship had been easy. It was the escaping and getting away that had been murder on his nerves. Three weeks of running on impulse, cloaked, without outside contact could do that. 

And then, to make matters worse, he had to ask the damn computer what Osiris meant. 

Big mistake.

"Early Ancient Earth, Egyptian God of the underworld and judge of the dead." The computer had happily supplied.

If he had known that he never would have stolen it. On his world, you see, he was an outcast, banished, known as 'dead'. He made his living at petty crime until now. In "the underworld".

What were these humans experimenting with, that they named this ship Osiris? That they made the walls in the same soft blue color as the stone tombs were made on his home world? That they lay carpets the same color as their blood, and _invite_ others to stroll on this symbol of their life force? What contempt for life and nature did these people possess? What atrocities is this ship designed to create?

"It's obvious." He said to himself. "It was all just too much." 

__

Too much. Now it was finally taking it's toll. He was going mad. The man he had seen was wearing odd clothes, _old earth clothes._ The clothes of ancient Egypt for all he knew. _Osiris. Judge of the dead. _

"Deck four." He said again. This time, the doors opened and he heard nothing. He watched, carefully as he strolled towards the galley.

He entered the room, casting suspicious eyes over everything.

"Tomato Soup." He told the dispenser. "Hot."

A sparkle and hum later it was steaming before him. He ripped open another nutrient pack and dumped the soft gray crystals in to the soup and stirred them in before sitting down to eat it alone. 


End file.
